Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Songfics That Were Never Meant to Be: the series ❯ The Continuing Story of Bungalow Brad ( Chapter 3 )

Song: "The Continuing story of Bungalow Bill" by The Beatles.

Disclaimer: Weiß Kreuz ain't mine. The Beatles ain't mine. Neither Superman, Clark Kent, nor Jimmy Olsen are mine. But the psychological damage caused by writing this fic? Now THAT my friend, is mine.

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"The Continuing Story of Bungalow Brad"

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Somewhere deep in India….

"Argh!" cries Nagi, tripping over a big jungle root, "I HATE this place! Why the hell are we here, anyway?!"

"Because it makes me feel rich and important," says Crawford patiently, "if you read books or watched TV," here he mentally adds `instead of spending five hours a day in chat rooms,' "you'd have noticed that rich and important people go on safaris and hunt big game."

"What the hell for?" whines Nagi, "that's totally stupid."

"It makes a great conversation starter at parties," explains Crawford. "Oh my, wherever did you get that tiger rug?" Crawford says, in a truly frightening attempt at an imitation of a lady's voice, "'Oh, it's just something I ran into while exploring Africa' I'll answer, and that really impresses people, you know."

"India," corrects Nagi.

"What?" says Crawford.

"We're in India. There are no tigers in Africa."

"No one at the party will care about that detail. They'll be too busy gawking at my magnificent tiger rug."

"Parties?" Schuldig cuts in, "what parties?! Are you trying to tell me you have secret parties with important people when I'm not around?!"

"There haven't been any parties," Crawford sighs. Though I'd be sure to plan them when you were gone if I did have any, he thought grimly. "We don't have a tiger rug yet. Kill a tiger, then parties."

He went out tiger hunting with his elephant and gun
In case of accidents he'd always take his mom
Who's the All-Americanbullet-headed Saxon mother's son.

"I think you're talking rubbish," says Schu, "whoever heard of a stupid rug being the focal point of a good party? That wouldn't impress me at all. What would impress me would be lots of really expensive alcohol and a go-go dancer. Hey Crawford, why can't we have one of those parties?!"

"What are you talking about?" frowns Crawford, "isn't that exactly what you get at those stupid clubs you go to every weekend?"

"Oh yeah," says Schu, breaking out into a smug grin.

(All the children sing)
Hey Bungalow Bill. What did you kill? Bungalow Bill.

Hey Bungalow Bill. What did you Kill? Bungalow Bill.

"So just how are we going to find this tiger, anyway?" asks Nagi.

"Oh, I'm not worried about that," says Crawford, "I'm sure if we just keep walking we'll run into one eventually. I definitely foresaw a tiger."

"Did you foresee killing this tiger?" asks Nagi, suspiciously.

"No, but I'm sure we'll manage," says Crawford casually.

"I hate you," says Nagi, "I hope you know that."

"Never doubted it."

"Hey Brad?" asks Schu.

"Crawford," says Crawford.

"What?" says Schu.

"I said `Crawford,'" repeats Crawford, "I hate being called `Brad.'"

"Whatever, Brad," says Schu, "When you finally have your party, can I be the go-go dancer?"

"Over my dead body," answers Crawford.

"I'll take that as a `maybe.'"

Crawford just glares.

He's blessed by a few rare moments of silence, until….

"Hey Brad?"

"Arrrrrgh!" goes Crawford.

"Can we hunt two tigers?" asks Schu.

"What the hell for?" replies Crawford, trying to massage away his newly developing headache, "having two tiger rugs just makes you look like a snob."

"I want a new coat," explains Schu.

"A tiger coat?" asks Brad, er, I mean Crawford.

"Yeah," says Schu, "animal prints are really in this season."

"But tigers are orange," says Nagi with a grimace.

"What does that have to do with anything?" asks Schu.

"Well," says Nagi, "your hair is orange too."

"And?" replies Schu.

"Well, wearing two different shades of similar colors clashes big time," explains Nagi with a smirk.

"They…they do?" asks Schu, slowly reaching up to touch his bandana in horror.

"Yeah," says Nagi, "huge faux pas there."

"Oh my god!" cries Schu, ripping off his bandana and holding it away at arms length, "Godamnit! Why didn't somebody say something?!"

"We thought you knew," says Crawford.

"You mean that wasn't on purpose?" asks Farfarello.

"Why the hell would I want to clash on purpose?!" screams Schu hysterically.

"Bad fashion hurts everybody," replies Farfarello with a nod.

"Hahahahaha!" cries Nagi, clutching his sides.

Schu hides his face. "Oh god! Just kill me now!"

"Okay!" says Farfarello, perking up at the request. "Knife or ice pick?"

"What?!" cries Schu, suddenly noticing the way Farfarello is approaching in a manner that gives him an unpleasant flashback to a certain Alfred Hitchcock classic….

"Get the hell away from me!"

Farfarello stops and looks puzzled, "Get away from you?" he looks at his knife and then back at Schu, "you mean you want me to shoot you instead?"

"No, you freak! Leave me alone!"

"But you said you wanted to die," says Farfarello. The disappointment present in his voice is definitely a blow to the self-esteem.

"It was a figure of speech, moron! A figure of speech!"

"You're weird," says Farfarello, frowning.

"And you're sick," replies Schu.

Farfarello simply smiles creepily.

Deep in the jungle where the mighty tiger lies
Bill and his elephants where taken by surprise
So Captain Marvel zapped him right between the eyes.

"AHHHHH!" one of the group screams (Crawford suspects It's Schu but can't be sure.)

And whaddya know, there in the middle of the path, grinning even more evilly than Farfarello, was….you guessed it… a tiger!

Crawford pulls out his musket.

Crawford aims his musket.

Crawford fires his musket.

….

Crawford misses.

"You missed?!" screams Schu hysterically, "since when do you miss?!"

"I'm used to an automatic handgun!" retorts Crawford, pouring more gunpowder into the musket, "the balance is all off with this thing!"

"Why," Schu grits out angrily, "are you using that arcane piece of junk if you only know how to fire an automatic handgun?!"

"You expect me to kill a tiger with a handgun?!" snorts Crawford, "where's the style in that?!"

He fires again….

...and misses.

Oops.

"Oh god, we're gonna die!" yells Schu.

The tiger growls….

…and pounces….

…Schu cringes….

…Farfarello giggles…

…and Nagi rolls his eyes.

BAM!

Right in mid-pounce, the tiger suddenly twitches and then drops like a rock.

"What happened?" asks Schu, looking around and realizing that no one was dead….

…except the tiger of course.

"Did you get it Brad?" he whimpers.

"No…" says Crawford, looking a little pale.

Nagi sighs and shakes his head. "I got it, you jerks," he turns and gives Schu a sarcastic look, "I can't believe you were scared of that."

"Did you see the size of its teeth?!" shrieks Schu, still not quite recovered from the scare.

"Idiots," mutters Nagi.

"Well excuse me, Mr. I-have-cooler-super-powers-than-anyone-else, sorry for being such a drag on your style." Schuldig glares at Nagi. Then he glares at Crawford and Farfarello too, just for good measure.

(All the children sing)

Hey Bungalow Bill. What did you kill? Bungalow Bill.

Hey Bungalow Bill. What did you Kill? Bungalow Bill.

"Can I stab it?" asks Farfarello hopefully.

"Absolutely not!" replies Crawford, "I don't want holes in my rug!"

"How are we going to carry it back?" asks Schuldig.

"Nagi," says Crawford, "would you mind?"

"I knew it!" Nagi cries, "all this time you planned on making me do all the work! I bet the only reason you brought Schuldig and Farfarello along was to keep me from getting suspicious!"

"Nonsense," replies Crawford, "I brought them along so that Schuldig couldn't demand vacation time on his own terms, and so Farfarello wouldn't burn the house down while we were gone."

"Hey!" objects Schuldig.

"Heh-heh," says Farfarello.

"Good point," concedes Nagi with a sigh.

In less than a minute, Nagi has the tiger hovering a foot above the ground, and our brave group begins to trudge wearily back to camp.

It doesn't take Schu long to notice that something's slightly off though.

"Hey Crawford," Schu begins cautiously, "Can you see okay?"

"Yeah," says Crawford, "I'm fine."

"But the backlash from firing your gun broke your glasses."

"Oh did it?" says Crawford, taking them off and examining them, "hm, so it did." He slides the damaged glasses into his pocket and continues walking….

"Wait a minute!" says Schu, frowning, "do you mean to say that all this time you could see perfectly fine without your glasses?!"

"Yep," says Crawford, "the lenses are non-prescription."

"Why," asks Schu, "the hell would you want to wear glasses if you didn't even need them?!"

"They make me look smarter," explains Crawford, "people take you more seriously if you wear glasses."

"Yeah, maybe like fifty years ago," snorts Schuldig, "I hate to break it to you, but that's hardly true nowadays."

"No, seriously," Crawford says, "look at me and tell me I don't look less menacing without the glasses."

"Menacing?" laughs Schuldig, "your glasses don't make you look menacing. They make you look…." he stops and ponders Crawford for a minute, and his eyebrows suddenly arch up in revelation, "come to think of it, they make you look like that reporter guy in the comic books you keep hidden under your bed!"

"Hey now!" Crawford exclaims, "what the hell were you doing looking under my bed?!"

"Searching for things to blackmail you with, of course," answers Schu with a grin, "to tell the truth I was hoping for porn, but the comic books were still an amusing surprise."

"Someday Schuldig," Crawford says grimly, "I will lock Farfarello in your room as you sleep."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sure you will, Brad," Schu replys flippantly, "so admit it! You were totally wearing glasses because you want to look like Clark Kent!"

"I most certainly was not," insists Crawford.

"Hahahaha! Brad wants to be a superhero!" laughs Schuldig, mercilessly.

"Shut up," says Crawford.

"Hahaha! Brad Crawford: mild mannered reporter!" torments Schu.

"Schuldig," says Crawford calmly, "if you think I like to pretend that I am Clark Kent, then just who exactly does that make you?"

Schuldig's face falls as he suddenly remembers the orange haired, green jacketed sidekick to the previously mentioned comic book character.

"You've got to be kidding," says Schuldig, "Crawford, please look me in the eye and tell me you do not like to imagine that I am Jimmy Olsen!"

Crawford just gives Schu a vague smile.

"You do! Holy shit, do you know how much you have just hurt me?!" Schuldig cries, "Olsen isn't even a proper sidekick, he's superman's `pal.' Oh my god, Crawford thinks I'm his pal!"

"Schuldig: Brad Crawford's pal," Schu whines, "oh god I may as well just kill myself!"

"What about me?" asks Farfarello.

"What?" responds both Crawford and Schu, who hadn't even realized that Farfarello was paying attention to their…conversation.

"Who am I in Crawford's sick fantasy world?" says Farfarello.

"Bizarro," Crawford instantly replies.

"SEE!" Schu yells hysterically, "you HAVE thought about this!"

"Cool," says Farfarello.

"I don't even want to know," grumbles Nagi.

"Nope," replies Crawford, cheering up, "you really don't."

The children asked him if to kill was not a sin
Not since he looked so fierce his mommy butted in
If looks could kill it would have been us instead of him

"Hey Farf," Schu says, noticing the disturbed look on Farfarello's face, "what's wrong? You look like you're going to injure yourself from thinking too hard."

"I can't figure out if what we're doing is bad or not," answers Farfarello frowning, "Killing a tiger ought to be bad, right? But tigers eat bunny rabbits and other cute little furry things. So maybe killing a tiger is actually a good thing?"

"Don't worry," Schuldig reassures him, "killing a tiger just to make a rug so you'll look good at parties is definitely bad. It's downright monstrous, in fact."

"Oh good," says Farfarello with relief, "I was worried."

(All the children sing)

Hey Bungalow Bill. What did you kill? Bungalow Bill.

Hey Bungalow Bill. What did you Kill? Bungalow Bill.

Several hours and several more arguments later, Schwartz arrives back at their base camp. Crawford immediately sends the tiger off to be made into a magnificent rug, and then pulls out his little black book of rich and important people to plan his party.

He also wastes no time in teasing Schuldig by offering him the opportunity to be the party's go-go dancer after all…providing he dressed up as Jimmy Olsen.

Schuldig surprises Crawford by offering to compromise, and dress as Lana Lang.

Crawford is too shocked to argue, and Nagi quickly announces that he was going to be far too busy with schoolwork to go to the party.

Which is a shame, as the party turned out to be quite a hit.

Although no one asked Crawford where he got his tiger rug.

They were all to busy asking him where he got Schuldig.

. . . . . . .

The end.

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A/N: In the 50's and 60's Jimmy Olsen wore a green sports jacket. I don't think he does anymore, but we'll just pretend Crawford likes the older comic books….

Lana Lang is one of Superman's girl friends (he has several, heh) who has red hair.